


lost and distant shores

by blue--phantom (twilightscribe)



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Character Study, Custom Shepard (Mass Effect), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Flashbacks, Gen, Panic Attacks, Paragon Shepard (Mass Effect), Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Virmire, Shepard Twins (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22460242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightscribe/pseuds/blue--phantom
Summary: In the aftermath of Virmire, Shepard mourns and remembers.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	lost and distant shores

_I must be strong._

_Everyone is looking to me._

_I must be strong._

He repeats the words, over and over, in his head. Remembers the cold, the burning. His parents dead, their eyes staring unseeing. Rowan looking to him, terrified, fire reflecting in her eyes. He closes his eyes, sucks in a deep breath, shoves the images away. _Not now_.

Another planet. Eyes staring, not seeing, glassy and reflecting nothing but dirt underfoot. Blood soaking the soil. Alien cries, the ground exploding from underneath him. Everyone’s gone -- it’s happening again, _again I’m alone_ , except it’s him this time. He made the call, the mission had to come first.

The mission had to come first.

One life for countless thousands, any commander worth their salt could make it. Any commander would, without regret; they wouldn’t look back, would look forward to the fight ahead. There will be time to mourn after. He can wait; he needs to hold it together, the crew and his squad all look to him, he needs to be the rock, to keep them focused and on task.

There will be time to mourn later.

He hears cries in his ears, lies and bed and sees sightless eyes staring -- _staring at him, why didn’t you save me you could have saved me_. Can hear the comm cutting out, static blaring in his ear where Ash’s voice once was. Ash telling him she understood; Ash telling him to prioritize the mission. Her voice cutting out -- _flanked flanked nowhere to run nowhere to hide_.

The memories all run together, bitter bile in his throat, on his tongue. Remembers the pain, remembers the fear.Rowan’s hand in his, running until his lungs burned, the smell of burnt hair and flesh choking him -- _the pain on his parents’ faces, the fear, the realization_. Rowan wrapping her arms around him, telling him _it’s going to be alright it’s going to be alright_ and no, no it’s not. It’s never been alright.

He wonders if his parents would be proud of him. If his unit would have celebrated. The mission was a success. One life given, so countless others could live. _One life given so you could live too many lost because of you were you worth it were you were you were_ \-- an old, broken record in his head that he cuts short.

There’s a knock at the door, short and brisk.

It could be important. It could be someone looking for reassurance, needing him to be strong and tell them that it was worth it, that it’s going to be alright. He sucks in another deep breath; it hitches in his chest, sticking to his lungs and throat. His breathing keeps hitching _no no not again_. Tries to force the memories back, back behind their walls and into their neat little boxes where he can deal with them _later_ \-- always later, never now.

He hadn’t locked the door. No one would disturb him; he’s their commanding officer, protocol would dictate that they wait for acknowledgement before entering. Unless it’s an emergency. They wouldn’t be able to hear the whistling of his breath, the frenetic beating his heart against his ribs.

He isn’t sure who he wants it to be on the other side of the door. He doesn’t answer, curls in on himself and wraps his arms around his knees, trying to will his breathing back so it doesn’t whistle in his ears, rattle in his lungs. He tries to count in his head, the way his therapist taught him all those years ago when he was a scared kid who had lost his whole world, clinging to Rowan and her clinging to him. The nightmares hadn’t stopped for months.

If he closes his eyes, Ash is there. _Why did you leave me? Make me proud, Shepard. Prove you were worth my sacrifice_. And her voice echoes between his ears, his pulse racing and something shrieking in his head but not the vision, no, this is worse because it’s _him_.

A hesitant touch, the light brush of a hand on his arm. He thinks that they might be saying something, but he can’t hear it over the rush and whistle in his head.

“-- you hear me, Shepard?”

The words sound tinny, as though coming down through a bad connection. Broken and jagged, they can’t see him like this, he needs to be strong. He’s struggled for so long, tried so hard, is he enough? Has he done them proud? There has to be a reason they’re dead and he’s here, right? There has to be some reason; he survived for a purpose.

“ _Rhys_.”

His name echoes, strangely, between his ears. He takes a shuddering breath, the dam breaking and everything spins -- goes dark at the edges.

“I’m going to lie you down, okay? I’ll call for Doctor Chakwas, you just--”

“... n-no.”

“Okay, I won’t call the doctor. What do you need me to do?”

Rowan but not Rowan. She always knew what to do. She would run her fingers through his hair when the nightmares came; always told him that they were going to be alright, that they had each other and that it was going to be enough. _We’re all that’s left_ , she would say sometimes. And she was angry, so angry, hitting and screaming and he remembers how _angry_ she was but never at him.

Hands in his hair, familiar but not. Soft voice, a warm place to rest his head. The whistling slowly quiets as his vision does.

“You’re not alone; we’re here, Rhys. It’s going to be alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got off my ass and beat the first two ME games in a marathon, haven't yet started ME3 but I'm going to be tackling that in the coming days. Till then, I'm exploring and getting a better feel for my mShepard who, ofc, has the most tragic backstory I could ever have given him (Colonist/Sole Survivor) and he has not taken it too well, obviously. I... had something much more ambitious in mind for my first outing, but I reeled it in because I'm not confident enough yet in my grasp of the characters or my mShep. Hence, I'm working it out with some ficlets. Enjoy.


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